


Beneath the skin

by Dylina



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lovecraftian, Loyalty, Major Character Injury, Mild Gore, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26860249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dylina/pseuds/Dylina
Summary: A injured Hubert is rescued by Lovecraftian monster Bernadette.
Relationships: Bernadetta von Varley/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: Hubert Week 2020





	Beneath the skin

"Where in hell was he? The last thing he remembered was the thundering of horse hoofs, the smell of burning and an explosion. It was an almost unintelligible blue but there definitely was a wagon of dynamite rolled in his direction, any memories beyond the boom were jigsaw fragments which did not seem to fit together. He lay in a bed in a state between unconsciousness and awakening, his eyes were yet to open but his mind still tried to process his surroundings and what had happened.

So there was an explosion, and it must have got him, he was in a bed with remnants of his memory, with the available information that was the logical explanation, If he was hit by the explosion and was knocked unconscious then how did he get to the bed? Someone must have carried him here. He presumed the bed was in the Monastery and possibly the infirmary. Who had carried him? It was safe to presume that it was probably one of the soldiers under his command. He felt content as he endeavoured to create reason amidst the confusion. 

The sense of touch was the first to return to him. Finally he would have more information about his current predicament. What he learn chilled him to the bone. His entire body was mummified in bandages. There wasn't a single gap for his skin to breath through. He felt suffocated and strangled but there was nothing he could do about it, he was unable to move.

The second sense to return was his smell. Thankfully there were holes in the wrapping for him to breathe through. He sniffed the air but the scent was unfamiliar. He had expected his nostrils to be caressed with chemical aromas and clean cotton. When his awakening nose was full of a disquieting smell of damp and charcoal he felt increasingly uneasy. He feared that he was not where he thought. If he hadn't been taken to the infirmary then where was he? Was he even at the monastery? Hubert loathed the abundance of unanswered questions that were building up. 

The third sense to yield information was his ability to hear. Drip..drip..the sound of water falling into water, there was a metronome rhythm to the dripping. Then there was a clicking sound, it seemed painfully familiar but he couldn't quite place where he had heard it before. He listened intently, determined to force his memory to recall the sound. Slowly, his mind obeyed his demands, he could recognise the sound. It was the click of knitting and embroidery tools. Could he be in the company of Bernadette? If only he could speak, he could call out to her. If only he could see, sight would confirm his suspicions. 

Finally he was able to open his eyes. Without the ability to move his neck he could only gaze towards the ceiling. It took several blinks to adjust to the dim candlelight. When his vision cleared he could see stalactites hung like daggers above him. Was he in a cave? Hubert stretched his eyeballs as much as possible to try and gage more of his surroundings, all to no avail. He was utterly helpless. 

"Hello!" A timid voice broke the silence. "Are you awake?" She crept over in a soundless crawl, almost as though she weighted nothing. Her neck was extended to giraffe length as she checked his face. "Oh you are awake." There was a sudden snap as she withdrew into her shell. "I am so sorry for bringing you here. It was because you were really hurt and bleeding everywhere and your skin had burnt off and I could see bone and I thought you were dying and I wanted to help you like you helped me." It was a miracle how she did not stop for a single breath as she rambled on in a fearful frenzy. 

Hubert was certain he had a headache after listening to the overload of information in waffle speech. Firstly he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to process what he had just heard and saw. His vision wasn't perfect so he still had reservations about he saw. The hairstyle was distinctive, a slightly brushed but still scruffy hairdo in a mauve shade. It unmistakably belonged to Bernadette but what he saw wasn't her, at least he did not think so. Her neck was unnaturally long like a snake had embedded itself beneath her chin and between her shoulders. The flesh covering the neck and face were unlike anything he had ever seen. It had scales similar to a dragon just it softer and oily. The complexion was an ethereal shade of lilac with a few darker dry spots on the scales. He had only managed to glimpse her terrified eyes but they appeared to lack the ability to blink. There were no signs of eyelashes nor eyelids. Her mouth was slim but for some strange reason he felt unnerved by them, unnerved by what could potentially be hidden within.

Hubert dismissed his sight, his eyes must be possessed with delusion due to injury. It could be that his mind was playing tricks on him, either way he was not going to trust anything. Next he was going to try and decipher the waffle which had grated on his ears with an unearthly squeal. He was certain he could have been deafened by the ghastly voice. 'He was really hurt and bleeding everywhere and his skin had burnt off and she could see bone'. That would explain why he was mummified. Mummification could protect his open wounds and when the wrappings were dampened or soaked in ointment could provide relief to burns and bruises. 

"Thank you for your aid. Does Lady Edelgard know of my condition?" Of course his first concern had to be for Lady Edelgard. She was more important than any of his injuries. His first objective was to return to her side.

"I don't know! She was badly injured I think. I could not see much through the flames on the hill. I remember using the arms point and suddenly there was a bang and everything went up in flames. I was terrified so I ducked for cover before hiding myself in my shell. I am lucky that my shell can withstand most things." Anxiety hung from every word as she spoke in a mere squeak. 

'Shell? That was a unusual choice of word. Surely she meant shield. He could ignore her word usage. Bernadette was a quirky girl and to examine every word would edge one closer to madness. "I remember that there were enemies on the hill, important figures in fact. Lady Edelgard's had no choice but to sacrifice a few allies for the greater good. I am sure that you understand, decisions concerning morality are never black or white."

The clicking of needles were more intense, hoop after hoop being added to the run, from raw material to creation was happening faster. "If I am going to die I would rather due in my room. Burning alive is a horrible way to die. Edelgard is wandering from morally grey areas into black." 

Hubert was a little surprised by the hostility of the response. If she was a piranha she would have bitten his fingers off. "I humbly apologise and understand your opinion, though I do not agree."

The clicking stopped a moment. "Perhaps because you were not the sacrificial lamb." The clicking resumed with the same intensity as before. 

"You misunderstand my position Bernadette. I would willingly give my life if it meant Edelgard's dreams are realised. I willingly put myself in harms way and do the grisly behind the scenes dirty work." Hubert did not know what to do. He was injured so could not return to Edelgard's under his own ammunition. He doubted that Bernadette could lift him. There was the infamous light bulb moment, he had been carried here by someone. That someone could return him to the Black Eagle's Strike Force. The next objective was to gain Bernadette's favour so he could start interrogating her. 

"At least you are not a hypocrite, I suppose." She spoke with a sigh lingering over her words. "Anyway how are you feeling?

Hubert was silent a moment as he was filtering through his lexicon for the appropriate language. "Stifled, suffocated and compressed; none of them are pleasurable. Is it possible to unwrap me a little?"

Bernadette's shrill scream nearly shattered his eardrums. She started a frantic ramble of self defecation and apology in a voice high enough for bats to hear. "I am so sorry, I thought that the wrapping would help protect you and stop you losing all blood. Stupid Bernie bear, stupid, stupid Bernie bear! How can you be so dumb? I knew the bandages would be too tight and uncomfortable. I bet you wished that I was incinerated to ashes in the fire. "

"Calm down and take a deep breath. I am not angry at all. " Hubert's voice oozed from his lips like a sweet liquor ready to burn down the throat and intoxicate. Bernadette held her breath and did not breathe out for an alarming period of time. "Bernadette, you can breath out now. I DON'T want you to suffocate yourself." There was a puff as she emptied her lungs. "You DON'T want me to suffocate myself? Yes, yes, that is good, that is a start. " She giggled as a way to release her relief and tension. 

"I am grateful that you came to my aid. You have my sincere thanks, thank you Bernadette. I just want to be able to see you." Before Hubert could finish what he wanted to say, Bernadette interrupted him. "Oh no, you want to see me so you can kill me." Bernadette was prone to paranoid delusions but Hubert had endless patience to deal with her issues.

"Wrapped up like a mummified corpse means that I am harmless. I would not want to kill you even if I was able to. Why don't we change the subject to something pleasant? I can hear the click of knitting needles. What are you making? "

Bernadette felt a little song in her heart as Hubert asked about her crafting, very few people showed an interest in her time wasting activities."I am not knitting, I am doing crochet. I am trying create a tight weave to keep your organs in. Until then I will have to loan you a shell. "

Was he listening to someone who had completely lost their marbles? What Bernadette said made no sense whatsoever. If he was able to move his face he would have been frowning. "Could you please clarify something for me. I do not understand what you are saying. You said that you were doing crochet. Crochet is a handiwork where strands of threads, say yarn , are woven into items and length of material. Then you said you were crocheting something to keep my organs in. Did I hear you correctly?"

"Yes, your skin burnt off so you do not have any. I am replacing your skin with a crocheted bodysuit. There will be buttons around the groin for toilet time and down your back for removal." She let out one of her little screams and curled up inside her shell. "Oh no, I am so sorry. I know I shouldn't have started to make you anything without permission, stupid Bernie, stupid? Why must you always leap ahead?"

Hubert was trapped in a horrified silence. The truth of his injuries were worse than he had first thought. He should be dead. How was he not dead? It must be some kind of sick miracle. Should he scream or cry? He had limited capacity to express emotions due to his injuries. He could only scream or cry in his head. To allow emotion to consume him would benefit no one, practicality and composure were essential to avoid a dark path to depression and instability. It was time to think logically and to make judgements devoid of emotion. "You are helping and I am grateful for your assistance. I cannot imagine how wool will keep my organs in."

Bernadette stuck her head out of her shell and studied the feet of the motionless Hubert. Perhaps she had over wrapped them just a little. There was a wedge of bandage around his ankles. "I am not using wool. " The nervousness had returned, along with the tiny squeaks between words. "I skinned some of the dead soldiers and then with a spinning wheel I spun the skin into thread."

Hubert wanted to vomit, the images of skinned corpses and icy, bruised, decaying flesh being spun and crocheted into a monstrosity was horrific. Hubert had a strong stomach for gore. His war in the shadows where he interrogated, assaulted and murdered meant that he was accustomed to blood and dead bodies. What he was being forced to imagine was beyond anything he had ever witnessed. In fact what Bernadette claimed she was doing should be possible. Clearly it wasn't, he could smell that it was possible. A putrid stench of rotten meat hung in the air; nauseating and vile foulness. His body was incapable of being sick so he would have to suffer the bitter bikle clogging up his throat. "How far along are you?"

Bernadette slid the rest of her supple body out of her shell. Relief had filled her, thanks to Hubert's calm responses. She felt slightly jovial, she must have done something right for him to not be panicking or shouting at her. "I have made the head. I am starting on one of the arms"

Hubert felt sick to his stomach, fatigued mentally from processing all the unbelievable information, and then numb. His emotions were too traumatised to react, leaving him empty. "You mentioned a shell several times?"

Bernadette giggled as he mentioned her shell. "Yes, it is my room away from my room. I hide in it when I am anxious."

"How is it possible for you to have a shell?" Hubert was hesitant with his questioning, not quite sure he wanted to uncover more of the disturbingly impossible . 

"I am like a tortoise. I have a shell and I like to go for long swims. I am a really good swimmer. Edelgard's told me she cannot swim and that she is afraid of water. Water is one thing I am not fearful of." Bernadette had gone into speed speech again. There were no need for full stops in her sentences when she did not stop to catch her breath. 

"You have never looked like a tortoise to me. " Hubert could feel his heart racing, his temperature rising exponentially and a dull throb in his skull. 

"I disguise in skin from the infirmary and hide my shell under my bed." Her voice trembled as she expected a violent reaction. 

Hubert struggled to speak with the bile blocking and a lump forming in his throat. "Have you always done this?"

Bernadette nodded, forgetting that Hubert could not see her. "Yes, well my mother used to fetch the skin for me to sew." 

Hubert had always been suspicious of Count Varley. In his opinion he was a corrupt noble who was only interested in self benefit. Now he knew that House Varley had a very dark secret he believed Edelgard's was right to strip Count Varley of his nobility. How many people had been murdered for their skin? It was probably a mixture of the homeless, runaways and thugs; the kind of people that wouldn't be missed. "Have you killed for skin?"

Bernadette retreated to her shell again as the accusing tone of Hubert's voice hit her ears. "Oh no no no no...nooooooooo; I could never do that. I am a scavenger not a predator." There was silence, an uncomfortable silence leaving a void full of fear and uncertainty both were feeding into. The void started to become a cluster of tension, the kind of tension which the drop of a pin could shatter it. Time passed and the tension in the atmosphere had been stretched beyond its limit and could have snapped at any moment. The silence had been broken by laboured breaths of terror and the rapid tapdance of the heart in a cage of bone. In union their hearts tapped and their breaths joined. More time passes as the baseline of heartbeat and uneven breaths continued. 

"Could I see you in your natural state, without the mask of skin?" The question hung in the air like a noose for Hubert to stick his neck through. To make such a request was a grave risk, emotionally he could potentially be ruined with fear and loathing , sanity could be made to dwindle as everything he thought he knew had been turned on its head, and physically the shock could kill him. Hubert had seen any horrendous things: the monstrous results of blood experiments, aliens beings with shimmering flesh and people transform into beasts, however he did not know whether he was prepared to witness Bernadette's truth form. 

Bernadette wobbled over to his side, staying safely in the confines of her shell. "Why? It is scary." The questioned bounced around her shell in an echo. 

"You have entrusted me with a great secret. It is both unreal and unimaginable. It would help to confirm what is reality and what are side effects of my injuries." Hubert managed to maintain the visage of calm despite his heart and his sweat suggesting otherwise. "I am sure you are not as frightening as you believe you are. Remember you were once terrified of me. After further interaction you discovered I am not so bad."

Bernadette thought about it for a moment. She soon came to the conclusion that he was correct, due to her anxiety she tended to be prone to exaggeration. "I will try and unwrap your head and put the crocheted head covering over you. You will be able to eat, drink and moved your neck a little. I will try hard not to hurt you." 

Her hands trembled as she evaluated the mass coil of bandages which had managed to weave and knit together in a mass of tangle. To unwrap the head she would have to navigate a maze of intricate loops and twists. Before she could start the process of unwrapping she needed to find the end. It was difficult to stop as it camouflaged within itself. She gently pincered a few bits that she believes to be the end only for them to be decoys. Doubt started to creep into her fragile mind, cracks started to appear in the glass dome of her confidence and each beat of her heart seemed to say how "worthless" she was.

The nagging of her self criticism was nudged by the successful location of the bandage end. Gingerly she held on to it, desperately trying to keep her hand stable, but the possession of shaking was hard to fight. She swallowed hard, fearing that she may harm or kill Hubert. She was within seconds of quitting until further success emboldened her and several circumferences of his head were achieved. So far, so good, Hubert had not made any sound of distress. However the closer she came to unravelling Hubert the more likely she could encountered fabric fused with scab and clotted blood.

The loosening of his constraints were a huge relief, like fresh air introduced into a smoke filled room. Hubert could breathe fully without inhaling the fibers of the bandages. Soon relief was replaced by agony as the bandage had attached to him, replacing the skin just had been burnt away. Imagine a red hot poker on a open sore, that was the level of pain which tormented him. Bernadette gave the bandages a little tug but they refused to budge.

"I think your body has absorbed the bandages as a barrier to replace your skin." Her fingers hovered over the bandages , uncertain about how to proceed. "If I unravel the bandages you will bleed to death." 

"I understand." His murmur was followed by silence, a period of time for contemplation. It seemed he was going to be a mummified monster for the foreseeable future. What a bother! People were fearful of what they did not understand meaning he would likely be killed on sight. He was of no use to Edelgard dead, but he was useless to her here as well. A feeling of hopelessness started to infect his heart, a feather blowing in the wind with no control of its destination. 

"I am going to try and cut some of the bandage from your mouth so you can speak better. If that goes well then I will snip the nose holes wider, then remove some from around your eyes." Bernadette took some deep breaths to steady herself. To cut away the bandages would require a careful hand. She could be careful, very careful, her embroidery was an art of intricacy . When under pressure she crumbled, she could not keep her hands still and she froze. That nagging self doubt was a drug she had become addicted to suffering from. Pessimism was her shadows, never fading, always stalking her. Her belief was that she would fail.

Snip, tiny little cuts only removed the dust of the fabric. Deep breath, concentration to steady her hand and then snip and repeat, she had a routine but it was painstakingly time consuming. Hubert had no choice but to be patient. If he pushed Bernadette then she was tumble like a deck of cards. His silence was his encouragement, that was all he could offer without moving. 

"Oh my goddess, I am so, so sorry." Bernadette sobbed as she cut a snippet of lip. As she sobbed blood poured, a whole fountains worth, Hubert grew increasingly weaker. There was no consoling her as she wept into her palms. He had to save himself, there was no other option. Survival instincts resulted in him sucking on his lip, tasting the metallic flavour of his blood. After sucking he used his teeth to nip the cut shut and stop the bleeding. His instincts had saved him from death, soon the wound closed. He felt fatigued but at least he was alive. 

"It was an accident Bernadette, I forgive you. " His voice was faint but he still able to sound earnest. "Please keep trying, I believe you can do it. Bernadette, I believe in you. When you handle a bow it is with delicate fingers. You have great skill with your hands. Please use that skill to free me." 

Bernadette sniffed as she parted her fingers to peek at Hubert. "You forgive me?" The disbelief in her voice was heartaching. 

" I never blamed you Bernadette." Softness was the truest essence of his voice. 

"You believe in me?" She sniffed again as she lifted her head and peered over her fingers. 

"I always thought you were talented. I could always see it beneath the barrier of anxiety. If you were of no use I would have gotten rid of you." Hubert hoped that his words weren't twisted and distorted in Bernadette's head. His words faded to silence as unconsciousness conquered him. 

.........

Waking up from unconscious was not a pleasant experience. All his limbs were stiff, even the slightest movement made them feel like they would snap. Heaviness, nothing could be lifted, especially not his head because of the feeling that he was weighted down by lead. To accompany the stiffness and the heaviness was drowiness, it would have been easier to slip back into unconscious than to try and stay awake.

Hubert was surprised when he could yawn, not only that but he could raise his hand to his mouth to stifle it. When he was unconscious Bernadette must have unwrapped him like an oversized present. He sat up and studied his body. To say that it wasn't a pretty sight was an understatement, he looked hideous. His body had been covered in crocheted carrion. One whiff of himself and he nearly vomited, the stench was foul. A swarm of insects had embedded themselves in his chest and in his armpits as a gruesome substitute for body hair. They constantly squirmed and oozed like a disgusting liquid. 

Being intimidating, scary or ugly normally was not a bother. He found the interest in superficial things such as appearance appalling. However with his flesh black and green as it festered and decayed was more than he could handle. He was a freak! Concerns of his aroma and his appearance were replaced by curiosity as he spied a strange creature hiding in the corner with shadows for cover. Purple hair like feathers seemed to be constantly in motion despite the absence of a breeze. "Bernadette, is that you?" His eyes studied her arm of silt flesh, oily and scaled in an iridescent mauve. Up her arm and attached to her shoulders was a beautiful shell, similar to a tortoise but covered in bright and colourful abalone. Hubert froze for a moment as he realised part of the heaviness he felt was because he wore a shell of his own. Surprisingly he was not disturbed by the discovery. He could not explain it but he felt moved. The shell was clearly a sentimental and important thing to Bernadette and to share it was like giving him a piece of her heart. 

Bernadette looked at him and gave him a true smile, a smile not disguised by human parts. He could see her piranhas teeth in full and her dazzling unblinking eyes. "I thought you would never wake up. I waited years for you. I thought you may starve so I squished food until it was mushy and used a funnel to feed you and massaged your throat to encourage swallowing. I finished your crocheted skin. You won't bleed anymore." She seemed genuinely happy to see him, her voice was full of song.

"Thank you." It wasn't Bernadette's fault that he was a freak. All she had done was find a way to save his life and life was a precious thing. "I have been unconscious for years have I? What has happened in the war?"

Bernadette scampered closer in the manner of an ungainly fawn. "The war is over. Edelgard's is gone. Fodlan is unified under the leadership of the professor and her allies. Claude is the king of Almyra"

Hubert was heartbroken, Edelgard's had perished and with her so did her dreams. He could only hope that the professor's eyes had been opened to the many problems Fodlan had. As for TWSITD, he could only hope that his letter was believed. "All is lost, I would weep but I am not the crying kind. Let it be known my heart will never stop mourning."

Bernadette tilted her head aside. "What will you do now?"

"I will have to devote myself to someone new, to someone kindhearted and talented. I will devote myself to you Bernadette. I have always had a soft spot for you. " Hubert gave her a smile with a soft glint in his eyes.

"You are not disgusted by me?" Her voice trembled as he approach and have her a flailing kiss with the cut flaps of lip blossoming like a fleshy flower. "I will be by your side forever. You are beautiful."


End file.
